


Disappearing Ink

by aurora_ff



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Buckynat background, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Hints of Romanogers, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha-centric, POV Natasha Romanov, Sokovia Accords
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_ff/pseuds/aurora_ff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Sokovia Accords force the Avengers to choose sides, Natasha Romanoff tries to keep everyone alive -- if not together -- by doing what the Black Widow has always done best: playing both sides. Basically, this fic is Captain America: Civil War from Natasha's perspective. She has a <i>thing</i> for super-soldiers. What does she do when three of them square off against one another?</p><p>This work can be seen as an extension of my series, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/369089">(Time Is) A Bullet From Behind.</a> Written with all MCU as canon. The parts I don't care for I try to give a new twist.</p><p>Comments always welcome! Your interest in my writing gives me the fuel I need to continue with future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jujubean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubean/gifts).



Natasha readied for another hand-to-hand clash as she witnessed Steve’s stolen quinjet, with Barnes also onboard, clear the hangar and throttle up. With any luck, and help from Falcon, the two would make full escape. 

T’Challa, trying to grip the retracting gear with a single hand in a last ditch effort to stop them, found himself thwarted. The black-suited man descended to the concrete again. He turned towards Natasha, and she knew from his posture that he was ready to dispatch his newest enemy. Her.

“I said I’d help you find him, not catch him,” she explained, though the words came as a small defence while the fight continued in the air. “There’s a difference.” 

Natasha gambled that with the single focus he had on the Winter Soldier removed from him, T’Challa would see some sense.

“That difference will not save you from justice,” he pronounced, his vibranium claws extended menacingly as he stalked towards her.

\-----  
**72 Hours Ago - London**

Natasha slipped into the beautiful Anglican chapel without anyone recognizing her, finding a place near the back with other mourners of the extended friends and family of Agent Margaret Carter. She had done the English thing by wearing a demure black hat for the service, and it kept her anonymous. Sam, she discovered, was saving a seat for Steve in the front pew.

All the Avengers knew this time was coming, even Wanda and Vision. Steve would take a weekend every month or so away from the upstate New York compound to visit his old flame from another time. He always come back quietly. After a night’s rest, he’d return to their training routines and their operations with renewed focus and effort, as if determined to carry on the legacy of the SSR.

Everything they had built since the defeat of Ultron was upended when Tony and Secretary Ross came to call, leaving the Avengers to decide the ramifications of putting their names to a three-hundred-page, double-sided document.

A moment after the text came on his phone, when Natasha and the others so were all still debating and bickering over the Accords, Steve abruptly excused himself. The room fell to silence.

Sam was the first to speak, “You know what? Do what you gotta do. Me and Cap? I think we’re ‘bout to take some leave.” Out of the five Avengers that remained, only Wanda was too uncertain to sign.

Uncertainty, Natasha knew from many years, was next to useless.

Regimes fall everyday, she had reminded herself. Public sentiment about enhanced individuals’ roles in world peace would shift again when -- and she did believe _when_ and not _if_ \-- the next extra-Earth threat came knocking and the Avengers answered. They just had to weather the outcry, pacify the UN with one hand while finding covert means to achieve what needed to be done with the other.

That wasn’t Steve’s way. That would _never_ be his way, no matter how much he and the rest relied on her methods. He trusted Natasha deeply and fully when it came to co-leading the Avengers, but beyond the Soviet-era file on Barnes that she had retrieved for him a few years ago, he didn’t ask anything more of her when it came to tracking down the Winter Soldier.

It was probably for the best.

Natasha walked a tightwire twisted of memory and loss, kept taught by her secret from the world: that a Black Widow spy of the Red Room once loved the very man Steve was obsessed in finding. They put the Soldier in his terrible throne and assured he was made loyal again, to sear her forever from his mind. If Natasha thought on it too long, nightmares would resurface. So she didn’t. 

She carried on, she survived.

But Loki had been right: she was ultimately sentimental. If Steve couldn’t have his blood-brother back, she’d at least try to serve in Barnes’ place as Cap’s second-in-command, like both Peggy and Bucky had done with the Howling Commandos. It was the only way she knew to honor the past without it swallowing her present. 

From dreams, Barnes’ voice reverberated. _”The Avengers can’t be divided. Not by what I’ve done.”_

She honored that, too, only faltering once when Wanda, briefly and naively, dredged up and amplified the horrors of Natasha’s past. _Run, Natalia_ , the Soldier implored so long ago. Ensorcelled, she pleaded Bruce to do just that with her, years later. A small part of her must have believed it was still possible, to escape, to let her heart be in the driver’s seat...like it had been when she was so much more naive. 

It took Steve to bring her back to her senses. Remind her not just of duty, but that she was the closest he had to family, orphans both. And if Rogers had any superpower beyond what the serum had given him, it was his ability to draw people to his strength and certainty. In the Avengers, they had both found a home.

Because of that bond and her secret, despite his doubts on signing the Accords, Natasha stopped on her way to Vienna to simply be there for Steve in his time of mourning, as Sam was. 

From her vantage, Natasha watched as Carter’s bedecked coffin was marched solemnly down the aisle, Steve at the fore of the pallbearers. It should have been the other way around, Natasha decided, glumly. The blond hero should have walked with his dark-eyed love as groom and bride, striding out of the church arm-in-arm and united, to everyone’s joy and applause.

Natasha recognized Sharon Carter as she stood in the pulpit, sharing a profound memory of her great aunt. 

Black Widow had been one of the few in S.H.I.E.L.D. to be entrusted with Agent 13’s full identity. She had even tried setting her and Steve up to no success. He didn’t permit himself the fleeting pleasures of seeking amorous companionship, not with any free time he had to spare after visiting the dying Carter or attempting to track down the only other soul that meant life itself to him.

Then again, Natasha hadn’t a good lay for quite a while, too, unless she counted the kinds of companions who ran on batteries. Bruce had been...safe….an attempt to get over her damned, fully _categorical_ attraction to super-soldiers. She had herself to blame in the first place for using techniques that she knew would confuse her emotional instincts with designing the Hulk’s Lullaby. 

Not that she should be dwelling of such things as a love-life in church, but Natasha was never really God-fearing. Some Russian ways of looking at the world stuck with her.

Still, if there was an Almighty God, Natasha hoped that He was watching over Bruce. He hadn’t really deserved what she had tricked him into believing and feeling, but she knew that she had even lied to herself for a time. Believed it real. Because it was needed.

As she refocused on the service, she realized the music was beautiful, the prayers and passages elegant and well-chosen. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder, quiet and half-shrouded by the angle of her hat, whether this was heralding the death of the Avengers themselves, of everything she had sacrificed for the everyday lives of regular people. Even if some of those people were caught in the crossfire.

Anytime she wanted, Natasha could glance to the front, just to the left of Carter’s coffin, and see the back of Steve’s head. She sighed with half empathy and half affection.

The priest made his final benediction to those congregated:

“Where can I go then from your spirit?  
Or where can I flee from your presence?  


If I climb up to heaven, you are there;  
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.

If I take the wings of the morning  
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

Even there your hand shall lead me,  
your right hand hold me fast.”

Soon. Soon Natasha would approach Steve, but not until the crowd thinned out.

* * *

From a spot by an old churchyard oak and a good ten yards away from the wellwishers, Natasha watched the hearse drove slowly away, with several black sedans following slowly behind. She saw Steve simply turned back into the church as a dozen of Carter’s blood relatives continued onto the burial site, a sad look on his face. The rest of the well-wishers dispersed in front of the chapel, knot by knot.

“Fuck tradition. Ya know?” came Sam’s voice, just behind her. On any other occasion, Falcon might be silently smiling inside that he spotted her and got the upper hand on the famously paranoid Black Widow. That she hadn’t, for once, been watching her own back because she had been too focused on Steve. “He has just as much right as those cousins three-times removed.”

Well, so much for the hat. She pulled it off, loosening the couple of hairpins that kept it at a fashionable, obscuring angle.

“Hey, Sam,” she greeted, turning around to face him.

“I’m going to assume you have more class than to shove a pen in his face right now,” he continued, hands deep in the pockets of his suit.

“You’re not the only one that cares about him, remember?” she retorted, casting her eyes down, feeling her lips twist to a frown. Her forefingers traced the brim of her hat as the silence grew between them.

That shamed Sam enough to back off and look away himself. “I hate this,” he confessed, looking at the church door.

“Me too,” Natasha agreed. “I’m trying to do the best for us all, Sam.” She shook her head slightly. “You just have to trust me. It’ll blow over. Give it time. We just have to seem to...to comply.”

“Not get caught, then. Yeah, I get it.” Sam shook his head. “That’s a tall order for high-profile, world-class superheroes. Of which you’re one now, Romanoff. Remember?”

Touché.

Her fellow Avenger continued, “I’m telling you, Nat, Steve’s not going to budge on this one. We worked it through on the flight.”

“Hold this for me,” Natasha shoved her hat towards Sam, and he took it, furrowing his brow as she passed him. “I’m going to talk to him anyway.”

* * *

As Natasha walked slowly down the red-carpeted aisle, glowing with the multi-colored light filtered through stained glass, she was surprised that Steve wasn't sitting, his head bowed in prayer. He stood instead with his hands in his pockets, staring at the black-and-white photo of Agent Carter in her uniform, surrounded by white flowers.

Rogers heard her approach, and in the open silence of the vaulted ceilings, he shared his thoughts. “When I came out of the ice...I thought that everyone I had known was gone. When I found out that she was alive, I was just lucky to have her.” 

“She had you back, too,” she offered by way of comfort, knowing without being told that Steve’s hunt for Bucky would only become more obsessive.

Cap didn’t let his grief overwhelm him. He glanced away briefly and changed the subject. “Who else signed?”

“Tony, Rhodey, Vision.”

“Clint?”

“Says he’s retired.” Natasha was uncertain about how long that status would last, but her long-time friend decided to compromise for his family’s sake. Nathaniel needed to get to know his father.

“Wanda?” 

God, that was more complicated. “TBD,” she offered neutrally.

She made her best entreaty, soft and open. “I’m off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There’s plenty of room on the jet.” 

Steve didn’t respond to her invitation except for lowering his head and sighing. She expected this, but she could still sense his internal struggle.

Natasha stepped closer slightly, broaching the invisible physical boundary that lay between acquaintances and friends. 

Steve looked back up at her, and she offered both her reasoning and her conviction. “Just because it’s the path of least resistance, it doesn’t mean it’s the _wrong_ path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

She had said that to her Soldier, too, long ago. That rather than defect and leave him, as he urged her again and again, she’d do the Red Regime’s bloody deeds if it assured they continued to be assigned as mission partners. Together, as long as they could. Until their covert rebellion became intolerable.

With things coming apart like this, Natasha contemplated confessing finally. That the glimmer of Barnes that she found buried underneath the programming of Winter Soldier was the very star that guided her all those years to becoming an Avenger.

“What are we giving up to do it?” Steve challenged, softly.

It was her turn to sigh. It was her turn to grieve anew what was past and what soon was coming to an end.

“I’m sorry, Nat. I can’t sign it.” 

It was her turn to be confronted again with the fact that some fights were destined to be lost. 

“I know,” she acknowledged.

Still, Steve didn’t immediately dismiss her. He looked her in the eye. “Then what are you doing here?” Their complicated friendship still meant something even if their partnership -- since the days of S.H.I.E.L.D., when Cap had replaced Clint on her STRIKE team -- was taking another turn.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” was all she could say. It was everything she meant. 

That’s when Steve's walls fell. She rested her hand on his shoulder, drawing him into her embrace. 

“Come…” she half-murmured as his arms fell around her hourglass waist. She patted his back, briefly, and felt his strength give way just a little as he leaned ever-so-slightly against her.

“I wish Buck could’ve been here,” he whispered. “They had a rocky start, but eventually he and Peg saw eye-to-eye.”

“They both loved you,” Natasha replied, glad that he could not see the expression on her face, only feel her fingers curl soothingly through his short dark-blond hair. In her arms, he gave a shuddering exhale.

“Don’t look behind,” she advised, quietly. “Look ahead. Take some time off. Get to know Sharon some more.”

Steve muttered, composing himself. “That again? I thought you were done playing my matchmaker.”

She shrugged. “I figure third time’s the charm.”


	2. Chapter 2

**36 Hours Ago - Joint Counter-Terrorism Center - Berlin**

Natasha was greeted by a designated liaison and an armed, faceless guard in a GSG 9 tactical suit just outside the security entrance to the multi-leveled, multi-story building that was the United Nations’ counter-terrorism hub. They escorted her in.

Yesterday, she had signed her name to the Accords, inking her most well-known name again and again to multiple copies. The cronies which carried out the directives of said document still didn’t completely trust her.

Well, she mused, she _had_ told off that U.S. Congressional investigative committee about two years ago when it came to her part at the Triskelion, so she shouldn’t be surprised. Thinking back to that hearing, her final statement, Natasha still believed that the world needed the Avengers. But she was not so certain anymore that they wouldn’t find themselves in a prison.

She wished Steve wouldn’t interfere in the manhunt for the Winter Soldier, but that was like expecting a river to run backward. 

Only a few minutes after she had gotten off the phone with Rogers in Vienna, Tony called. _”Ross wants us in Berlin ASAP. We’re to -- ah -- _’consult’_....In case Rogers’ decided that taking some vacation time for a tour of Stonehenge isn’t his cup of tea. Rhodey’s been detached on spec-ops for the firepower side of things.”_

The instinct within her smelled a trap. The UN would have her and Tony under surveillance and therefore potentially neutralized, because they weren't really beholden to any diplomat, even though Colonel Rhodes was. The authorities could also potentially grill her for intel on Steve's whereabouts, which she pretty much figured was somewhere in continental Europe. In the best-case scenario she and Tony were seemingly complacent, recruited Avengers to hunt down their former teammates. A clusterfuck. Natasha’s head pounded again. 

She thought. She weighed. 

Natasha decided best way she could help any of them was to stay in the eye of the hurricane, between the Avengers and the international agencies demanding accountability. So she'd comply. 

She replied wearily. “I’ll fly out this evening.” 

The horrible situation also had Prince T’Challa in the mix. Upon their first encounter hours ago on the floor of the UN Assembly, warm and with a small blush of flirtation, she studied him. The Prince of Wakanda seemed observant, quietly intellectual, quite fit, and at the prime of his life. Not arrogant but confident; a man who did not question his destiny. 

In that moment of exchange with he and King T’Chaka, Black Widow saw the opportunity to peek under the veil of secrecy on Wakanda, at least informally. Wakanda wasn’t even a blip in the Avengers’ radar until Ultron approached a certain smuggler about his stockpile of vibranium stolen from that country. Wakanda had made the first step out of the shadows in Nigeria, only to be met with disaster. 

Then, the UN bombing. T’Chaka’s brutal death. 

Then...she sat outside with T'Challa twirling his father's ring of State. 

“Don’t bother, Miss Romanoff. I’ll kill him myself.” 

Kill. Not capture. Not ‘bring Barnes in for interrogation’. Those were the words of a man set on vengeance. 

In the aftermath that afternoon, Natasha had thought the talk was simply a son grieving his father, the talk of hurt and the talk of pride. T’Challa would eventually internalize the futility of vigilante justice on a man who had evaded Rogers for two years, her for nearly seven, and the world for much, much longer. 

It turned out that Natasha could still be surprised.

* * *

In the JCTC nerve-center, Natasha and Tony watched live footage of a helicopter cam aimed down on a high-rise tenement building somewhere in eastern Europe, believed to be where Barnes was taking up residence. Deputy-Commander Everett Ross had denied she and Stark the mission details, stating that they were on a ‘need to know’ basis, but he let them listen and watch the op as it began. 

Radio chatter from several tactical teams was piped into the control room, and Natasha did her best to visualize what was about to go down. She knew the city was Bucharest from studying the skyline and she guessed at the corner apartment Barnes’ would choose to take as a tactical advantage even as the GSG 9 teams fell into their positions. 

_”....Confirmed. Confirmed! Captain Rogers is present with target!...”_

The JCTC or one of their affiliates had a mole then, giving Cap the head start. That someone was more loyal to Steve than to oaths of service. It took one glance at Sharon Carter’s briefly clenching jaw to have her suspicion confirmed. 

Natasha also observed the sheen of sweat bloom on Deputy-Commander Ross’s face. He was making a split second decision. It could be a decision for the history books. 

“HQ to Juliet Two. Brief and deploy Colonel Rhodes,” Everett ordered to the communications tech at the keyboard just to his left, not taking his eyes off the black-and-white feed. Natasha glanced briefly to Tony, who was loosening his silk tie and looked just about as uncomfortable as she, deep within, felt. 

_”The suspect has broken containment! He’s headed down the east stairwell. Re--”_ The transmission suddenly squelched out. 

Natasha’s eyes focused on the heli-cam footage flying at observation distance on the whole operation, while her ears took in more chaotic radio chatter, barrages of automatic gunfire, and then calls for medical assistance. She was powerless for the moment and could only observe. Observe and _hope_. As she did so, she wore a mask, a cool and professional demeanor, while on the inside her throat seized. 

_”Suspect exited building on the seventeenth floor. Suspect fleeing onto the roof of the adjacent southwest building.”_

She saw Barnes’ impossible leap, and then what seemed, at first, like his inky shadow -- only an instant late in catching up with him -- flying as if from the sun itself and tangling with him. 

"What the fuck?!" whispered Tony under his breath. 

_”Suspect is now engaged...with...a--- uh---”_ The voice over coms actually was at a loss for words. _”...An unknown assailant. All in black. Full mask._ ” 

In grainy pixels, she witnessed the speed and the strength of Barnes blocking, dodging and countering the hand-to-hand skill of the unknown man in black that matched him in every way. Other than Rogers and Barnes, Natasha had never known another human with such physical power and training. Was it…? 

_”Permission to open fire on both.”_

Natasha bit her lip for a brief moment before correcting herself. It occurred to her that the JCTC wasn’t intending to capture the Winter Soldier. They were intent on _killing_ him. Maybe that had been the order from the start, and she and Tony had purposefully been kept in the dark. 

Everett Ross had the look in his eye to a man committed. “Permission granted.” 

The fifty-caliber rounds from the second chopper bounced off of the black figure as if they were wads of paper. 

Natasha watched as Falcon swooped in and kicked the tail of the assaulting helicopter, buying some cover for those below. Of course Sam was involved, of course. Wilson stuck by Steve's side, consequences be damned. 

The distraction was enough for Bucky to disentangle himself, grab something that looked like a backpack, and leap off the roof of the second building, just as Steve himself jumped the gap between buildings and was in pursuit. 

The chase went quickly from the street to an underground traffic tunnel, and from there, their eyes-in-the-sky lost visual. 

Deputy-Commander Ross again. “ANLG units Alpha through Echo: secure all exits and entrances to motorway E60 tunnel between three and five kilometers of city center, south- and northbound. Colonel Rhodes: report.” 

_“Golf Niner vehicles are in pursuit of Rogers, Barnes, and unknown Enhanced.”_

Through coms was piped in screeching, metal crunching, various harried field reports. 

A transmission in German. _“Barnes has commandeered a motorcycle. Suspect now headed northbound on E60.”_

Natasha blinked, remembering the growl of the engine vibrating under her, the hundred-mile-per-hour rides out into the Russian forest as she and her Soldier could feel -- in that rush of wind and tuned mechanics -- something close to freedom. Something pure. Every time she mounted a bike, his lessons and more came back, goading her to seize the moment. 

But no matter how fast the motorcycle, her could not outrun War Machine. 

Rhodes: _”I have visual. All parties now on foot. All Golf Niner forces: call for stand-down. Repeat, command stand-down and surrender. Do not shoot unless engaged.”_

Natasha glanced again to Ross, wondering whether he’d countermand Rhodey’s field order to get his kill, even at the expense of Captain America. The man’s face reddened and he shifted nervously on his feet just as she saw through the feed of Rhodes’ suit how he landed in the middle of the fray, repulsors and shoulder-rifle targeted at Cap, the Winter Soldier, and the unknown figure in black. 

_”Stand down, now!”_

Natasha exhaled and looked to Tony when Steve decided to store his shield and raise his hands in surrender. GSG 9 forces rushed Barnes, pushing him onto the ground and handcuffing him as others approached Steve for the same. 

_”Congratulations, Cap.”_ Rhodey offered. _”You’re a criminal.”_

As for the unknown man who had hunted Barnes since the rooftop, he held his hands up as well then carefully pulled off his helmet. 

Almost every tech in the room began chattering nervously. But not her and not Carter. Everett Ross just swore under his breath as Rhodey acknowledged His Highness, rolling his eyes. “Great,” the man muttered. 

Prince T’Challa. Natasha wasn’t surprised by now, not truly. Wakanda was a land of secrets, and secrets often obscured power. Given the UN incident, given that he was now the defacto ruler of his country, Natasha doubted the Accords would be applied so heavily to him. 

Stark neared her shoulder and quipped. “So, how many more super-soldiers do you think will come down from the rafters, Romanoff? Before this this all over?” 

Natasha didn’t answer Tony, instead she strode towards their ‘host.’, suspicion deep in her brain but not on her tongue. “What’s going to happen now? To everyone? Now that you have them in custody?” 

“Barnes will be put in a containment unit. Under military escort, they all will be brought to this facility for processing,” the Deputy-Commander responded. 

“‘Processing?’” Stark inquired. “That sounds like a hoot. Two-for-one water-boarding experience?” Tony began patting down the pockets of his pants and jacket. “Where’s my coupon?” 

The gray-haired man frowned, crossing his arms over one another as he squared up against Tony. “Agent Carter?” he called over his shoulder, scanning for the blonde woman in the room. 

“Yes, sir?” Sharon responded, nearing her boss. At least she had the cool to not challenge him. 

“See that Mr. Stark and Ms. Romanoff are installed in the Washington conference room and provided with a few copies of the international accords they just signed. For their reference.” Everett smiled ‘helpfully.’ “It seems there are a few sub-articles they missed.” 

“Yes, sir,” Sharon answered, glancing at both of them. “Please follow me.” 

As she and Tony were escorted out of the command center, Natasha began to run the options in her head. Compliance and mirroring Ross’ attitude would get her further than the low-level aggression and defensiveness that Tony was currently exhibiting. 

The conference room was sure to be bugged. It didn’t matter. Natasha decided she would be yet-another ‘yes-man’ as she worked on things under the radar, out of the eyes and ears of the authorities. Just like Sharon Carter. 

Just as she had done long-ago, in the very heart of the Red Room, when love for its own sake was treason. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that Romania and the [National Guard of the state of Alabama (U.S.) partner together in military training exercises and humanitarian efforts?](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alabama%E2%80%93Romania_National_Guard_Partnership) I didn't either until my need to research took over. That's the "ANLG" mentioned in this fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**32 Hours Ago - Joint Counter-Terrorism Center - Berlin**

In their conveniently out-of-the-way room, Natasha sat in one of the ergonomic chairs around a modern wood-and-chrome conference table with a copy of the Sokovian Accords in her lap, studying the document while Tony paced the space in looping patterns that seemed to have no rhyme or reason.

“It seems to be saying that any member nation can petition the UN oversight panel to have a registered or unregistered enhanced person extradited and tried under their country’s laws, regardless of citizenship, should the member nation provide a reasonable case for aggrievement.” She wasn’t a lawyer. None of the Avengers were lawyers. 

Natasha frowned while Tony just turned and rubbed his forehead. 

He talked to the ceiling for a moment. “Rogers and Wilson are veterans of the U.S. Armed Forces, right? That should at least count for something. But his terrorist buddy? Barnes? Might as well be sent to the Wakandan version of a gulag.” Stark then pivoted and peered at her with narrowing eyes. “‘Gulag’? Right? That’s the Soviet term? Those terrible torture prisons in Siberia? Only this time, like two hundred degrees hotter. ‘Cause, I guess, Africa.”

Very barely controlling herself, Natasha slid the copy of the Accords back onto the conference table. Cold rage and a hint of old fear sizzled down her nerves, almost made her fingers tremble but for her long practice at denying her own truths. At the Tower, Tony would sometimes tease her about her past as a Russian agent, but she never shared and he never guessed…

“We need lunch,” was the only thing she said in response, deflecting it all. “I’ll go find Carter,” she intoned, rising to her feet. She was intent on fleeing. To have some moment where she could rage and cry and not appear perfectly in control.

“Yea...aah,” Tony drawled, taking a pair of tinted glasses out of his designer suit. “Trust these G-men to know a decent takeout joint?” He then fiddled with the accessory, pressing what could have been some small interface on the frame. “Friday?”

Natasha paused and tilted her head as she heard a very soft and unintelligible response across the air in the quiet room. FRIDAY, of course. Stark’s new AI to replace JARVIS.

“How’s that schwarma delivery coming?” Tony asked his electronic servant. 

Natasha was quietly stunned that he was getting any signal in this place, but she wouldn’t have put it past Stark. Years ago, she and Cap had been warned of an incoming short-range missile while she was storeys underground with the vestiges of Arnim Zola stored in a computer, all because Tony had given her a StarkPhone prototype.

“And that escorted flight from MK?”

Another pause. 

“Great. What’s old is new again,” he responded to whatever he heard on the other end. “And, yes, same answer.” Tony then stripped the glasses and drummed his hands on the conference room table in a quick syncopation as he gave a closed-lipped, half ironic smile to his only companion.

“Should be here in half an hour,” Tony told her, just after throwing himself into a conference chair and spinning once around. “Along with something else of Pop’s. Like 1941 else. May help to make a point to Cap.”

“What about Ross? Secretary Ross,” she clarified. “Who’s going to talk to him about Steve and Sam? Get him to consider the PR storm of Captain America of all people being tried by a foreign nation?”

“Well...About that.” 

Natasha could read the evasion in his chocolate eyes. “Tony?” she prompted.

“I’ve been ignoring his calls for the past three hours,” Stark confessed. “Bad reception. JCTC security measures. Y'know.”

“We’ve got to make this work,” Natasha said, running the scenarios again in her head. “Steve may reconsider signing if Barnes is a part of the equation. Get an update from Rhodey on the Bucharest cleanup and return the Secretary of State’s call.” She nodded at her next words, slowly, using small bits of body language to get Stark to agree, ignoring her own urge to defy authority. “Deal us back in.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony concurred reluctantly.

Natasha reached for the handle on the conference room door. “I’ll see what I can negotiate with the Deputy-Commander for their treatment.”

* * *

She didn’t go immediately to Everett Ross. Instead, she found a small, single-toilet bathroom to lock herself in, letting her knees weaken to bring her down to the tile. She wrapped her arms around her tucked-in legs.

Could it have been Barnes at Vienna? Yes. Yes it likely was. As decimated as HYDRA became, someone else could have found him, and knew what things to say to trigger him, to bring the Winter Soldier to heel and have the man again do the bloody work of the power-hungry.

She should have told Steve long ago of what she witnessed in the Soldier -- that glimmer of the man he knew -- when she served the Red Room, but it seemed only futile and damaging. As another Avenger, Steve had to trust her: not have suspicions that she had somehow been a part of the Soviets’ decades-long enslavement of his best friend. It was a small miracle he hadn’t even asked if she and the Soldier had crossed paths, after all this time together. Then again, she obscured her past with false records and details. Day-to-day she could ignore how the secret ate at her; but not now, with Bucky finally captured and in the world spotlight.

Seeing the sparkle of tears on her lashes in the harsh bathroom light, she nodded to herself. If Barnes came to trial, she’d take the witness stand to defend him. Let Rogers, Stark, and the others judge whether she was a collaborator or not, even if the remains of the Red Regime would come for their wayward Widow to silence her, once and forever.

Even if all the retributive horrors she buried returned. 

Even if...even if she’d stare across the courtroom at Barnes, confessing the details of their long ago carnal intimacy that he, in two years of freedom, did not recall.

Natasha rose from the floor, went to the sink, and rinsed her eyes. From her jacket, she pulled out her compact and mascara and lipstick to make herself flawless again.

She found the Deputy-Commander entering his office with a cup of coffee. “What now, Miss Romanoff?” he asked, the annoyance obvious in his voice.

“The U.S. Secretary of State wanted me and Stark to consult in this matter,” she offered, following him in. “So, let us consult.”

“Close the door,” the man motioned with his cup before sitting at his fastidiously clean executive desk. “What advice could you possibly give me?”

“Don’t put Wilson and Rogers in a lockup, for starters,” she began, gauging him as she slid into a guest chair opposite. “Let me and Stark talk to them. We have an opportunity here for them to sign the Accords. I think that would make Secretary Ross very happy, and you’d get the credit for your diplomacy.” She offered him one of her charming half-smiles. “Could be a big boost to your career.”

Ross tapped a pen on his desk with his reedy fingers, frowning slightly. “Anything else on your Christmas wishlist?”

The man, she decided, was rather dislikable.

“I want to be there for Barnes’ interrogation.”

Using his pen, he cut through the air. “No, no. Absolutely not! No.”

“Do you know the Winter Soldier was trained by Soviet operatives? Do you speak Russian?” she asked. “ _Ya govoryu po-russki._ ”

“I am quite aware of your skillset, Black Widow. Quite.” Ross took a gulp off his coffee. “Barnes won’t have an interrogation. There is a psychological evaluation done by an appointed expert of the UN. Of which, Miss Romanoff, you are most decidedly _not_. Doctor Broussard’s already been called in and will evaluate Barnes alone. And in his Mother-tongue as I understand. English.”

The interrogations she figured, must come later. When he’d been handed over to whatever nation would bring him into their justice system. You didn’t have the Winter Soldier in your clutches and not want to wring him for every last detail you could about his missions over the last fifty-so years. Natasha only escaped that fate as a condition of her joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. Fury, at least, appreciated secrets.

“Then that’s all, sir.” Natasha did not rise from her seat. She waited the Deputy-Commander out.

“Fine. Have your crack at Rogers and Wilson. Their ETA is one hour. I’ll see they're installed comfortably. And I’ll let you observe Barnes’ evaluation via the remote feed. But that’s the end of any more favors.” He then pointedly ignored her as he picked up the phone. An obvious dismissal. 

As Natasha left Ross’ office, she allowed herself to feel a brief moment of optimism before the next set of challenges were escorted through the JCTC’s door.


	4. Chapter 4

**30 Hours Ago - Joint Counter-Terrorism Center - Berlin**

Natasha chewed her falafel wrap slowly, considering with dark amusement that Tony choose the same mid-town restaurant that they had eaten at after the Battle of New York, where for the first time, their assembled rag-tag team of heroes were truly the Avengers. She swallowed.

“What did Secretary Ross have to say?” she inquired.

“Says he’s working on the deal with the UN. Returning my call after the preliminary discussion. And will be here in Berlin within hours. He demands that Maximoff remain on the compound grounds until this is all worked out. I’ve put in a call to Vision.” Tony loosened his tie before dipping his pita back into the hummus, letting it stick in the to-go container for a moment. “If Rogers signs, ideally Wilson too, he says he’ll make a case for Barnes to be extradited to the United States. Still, you can’t expect Prince Simba of the Jungle to let the death of his father to go uncontested…”

She set the uneaten end of her sandwich down, no longer feeling particularly hungry. “I don’t think Barnes was the mastermind of the bombing. Any decent psych eval is going to find that. HYDRA wanted a living weapon. He’s--.”

“Oh. So you’re an expert, now? On the Winter Soldier?” Tony tossed back. “Well, I guess he did try to kill you. Like twice?”

Natasha realized she was on dangerous ground. “Know your enemy,” was all she answered. “Someone else always calls Barnes’ shots.” Well, almost always. When it came to killing, he was every bit the Soldier. When it came to other things...

_They never told you that you couldn’t make love to me, true?_

Tony tossed the remains of his lunch into the trashcan without ever getting up from his seat. “Yeah, because crimes against humanity are always excusable with the ‘I was just taking orders’. The Nuremberg defense. Classic. A favorite of Nazis, right?”

"I'm not the enemy here," she returned. "And we're both frustrated, alright?"

Tony let out a sigh, rubbing his chest in something like a tick.

God, she was getting sick of Tony’s stream-of-conscious thoughts spewing out of his mouth. She thought to rise to her feet and declare once and for all Barnes’ innocence because she had been there to witness, first- _fucking_ -hand, how the Winter Soldier was stripped of the choice to deny a direct command from his handlers. In those nightmares, she could still smell the ozone that emanated from the device they placed him in.

“Let's divide and conquer,” she said instead. “Once they’re settled in, I’ll take Sam for a coffee in the cafeteria. You get your crack at Cap. I already tried.”

“Sure thing,” Tony agreed. “Let’s hope the nostalgia card works.”

* * *

It all happened at once. After Thaddeus Ross had his emergency session with the UN Accords oversight panel, Tony didn’t ignore the Secretary’s follow-up phone call this time. However, the briefing occurred just as everyone arrested in Romania was brought into the underground secure receiving area of the JCTC complex.

Natasha had appealed to Sharon Carter for her own presence upon the detainee’s initial arrival, but the other woman simply shook her head. 

“Those areas are restricted to authorized personnel while the prisoner is transferred and secured. I’m sorry,” Carter had told her. There was a look in the blonde’s eyes that spoke of true regret. “You can meet the others on the skyway.”

What Sharon saw in Natasha’s own expression may have prompted the CIA agent to say something else. “I still remember what you did for Cap in D.C.. When no one else did…”

Natasha gave a grim smile. “I remember you taking back the Insight launch control. When it came down to it, you didn’t hesitate either.” Natasha only half-hid her admiring words with a shrug. “Rumlow’s dead now. But you knew that.”

“Our intel says he wasn’t even really HYDRA anymore,” Sharon remarked, just as the Deputy-Commander was paging her. 

Natasha guessed the other woman would give up everything for the right reason. And that reason was and always had been Rogers. It might as well be in Sharon’s DNA.

“Well…” Natasha offered, as if still talking about Rumlow, but perhaps the full meaning not lost to Carter. “We all show our colors in the end.”

Sharon had offered her a small nod before excusing herself.

Tony continued to negotiate over his StarkPhone with Ross as she left the conference room. “I understand, sir. And yes, Miss Maximoff is quite comfortable at our the compound for the moment. Yes, sir. House arrest, as the panel demands for the interim.” 

Natasha exercised what freedoms she was given in the facility to intercept Steve, Wilson, and Prince T’Challa as they were being escorted from the entry bay to the command center. Lead by Everett Ross, they were in the company of a half-dozen GSG 9 in tactical uniforms.

She scanned over Steve as she strode to intercept. He seemed just as resolute as when she had tried to dissuade him over the phone, certain he was there in Vienna almost as soon as Bucky was implicated. And there was Ross, who seemed ever-peeved at this entire situation. One wrong step, and her delicate thread-pulling may be exposed. So, she summoned a little distance.

“For the record, _this_ is what making things worse looks like,” she noted to Rogers as she joined his side.

“He’s alive,” was all that Steve responded in kind. 

She exhaled and glanced briefly to T’Challa, who also had a similar stoic expression. At Vienna, she knew how deeply the desire for vengeance ran in T’Chaka’s son. Steve’s love and loyalty to the man he remembered in Barnes was just as strong. Two super-soldiers, locked in a fight over yet another. A nightmare. And she, she was the only one that maybe saw it all, held all the secrets…

“And thanks to Colonel Rhodes, so are you,” she returned, cooly. “He was the first you know, even before Tony, to strap into our new reality.”

She caught how Sam frowned. James Rhodes and Sam Wilson both served in the Air Force. Sam was the one of the two retired, but still, the pledge to serve had to remain somewhere in the back of his skull. They were both still flyboys with their specialized tech, something they had bonded over at the Avengers compound.

Still, no one said anything more until they rounded the corner to the command center, where Tony was making a dramatic effort with his final piece of interplay with the Secretary of State. As Everett and their armed escort peeled off, Natasha followed after T’Challa, tossing over her shoulder: “Try not to break anything while we fix this,” to her two wayward friends.

After all their years, Steve learning and appreciating her methods, why couldn’t he just play along? Say ‘Yes’ to the authorities but clandestinely follow one’s heart…

“Your Highness?” Natasha called as another one of Ross’ assigned agents handled the Wakandan dignitary, seeing him to his own accommodations. “May I suggest a more diplomatic path this time?” 

“My father’s killer may be out of my reach, Miss Romanoff, but he is not out of my sight.” T’Challa was already accessing his own cell phone as she looped back to the fractured Avengers. He now had a king’s power, if not the title. How’d she negate his thirst for retribution, she was still uncertain.

After being escorted into the building’s nerve center, Sam and Steve had their backs against the wall, literally. In this mess of a situation, she had to appear cool and in control.

After Tony told them that Secretary Ross was after prosecution, Cap inquired: “Not getting the shield back, am I?”

“Technically, it’s the government’s property, Wings too,” she threw at Sam, hoping that they’d see some sense in surrender now that they were without their tech. Steve’s shield has always been a part of him, and now it was held hostage in these negotiations.

“That’s cold,” Sam noted.

“Warmer than jail,” Stark responded as they both sought a debriefing from the Deputy-Commander. Was the threat of a twenty-first century gulag still on his mind? Natasha recalled something in the Accords document about a secret, internationally-sanctioned prison.

“Barnes’ evaluation?” she asked of Everett. 

“Dr. Broussard is being checked through as we speak. Half an hour. Satisfied?”

Natasha was not, not in this mess, but she couldn’t let anything on.


End file.
